


Let It Snow

by bouncymouse



Series: Shinra Holiday 2020 [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: F/M, Reno Is A Hero And He Doesn't Know It, ShinraHoliday2020, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouncymouse/pseuds/bouncymouse
Summary: It's snowing in Edge, and Reno tries his hand at being a knight in shining armour. Rating for Reno's potty mouth (of course). For #ShinraHoliday2020
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Reno, Tifa Lockhart/Reno
Series: Shinra Holiday 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057700
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39
Collections: Shinra Holiday 2020





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Is this the most tooth-rotting thing I've ever written? Yes, I think it might be.
> 
> My second entry for #ShinraHoliday2020, for the prompt "Let it Snow."

It was Reno’s day off.

He didn’t bother setting an alarm, and now it was nearly noon. He didn’t understand. It must’ve been something to do with the fact he was totally knackered because insomnia usually had him up at the crack of dawn if work didn’t get there first. It didn’t mean he was ever on time for anything, but he was usually awake, lying in bed and questioning his poor life choices.

It was almost nine by the time he left the office. He rarely worked past his contract, life being too terminally short in his line of work to waste it on unpaid overtime, but he prided himself on being a good Turk. If a job needed doing, he’d do it right, and this time the extra hours were unfortunately necessary. This week, the continued stability of the Shinra Electric Power Company seemed to hinge on Reno having as little social life as physically possible.

Maybe he was being overdramatic, but it wasn’t like he even wanted to go to Icicle Inn. He hated snow, cold weather and skiing. More so, he hated babysitting the President during his boring business meetings. The trip ticked every one of those boxes.

Tseng was doing this to punish him.

The key problem they faced was their accommodation. Their hotel of choice was closed for emergency maintenance and had cancelled their booking. It wasn’t difficult to find another in the tourist town; swanky, five-star hotels grew on fucking trees. Apparently, businessmen just loved to ski, but changing their plan was an enormous pain in the ass for the two Turks on security detail. A new hotel meant one of them—more likely to be him—would have to make the trip a day earlier to scope out the building and the surrounding streets. Tseng would expect a full report before Reno turned in, and he didn’t want to spend his first night away from Edge in what felt like forever typing up paperwork.

Stomach rumbling, he headed for the fridge, sauntering across his sparse apartment in his boxer shorts, his scarlet hair sticking up at odd angles. Coffee and lunch first, then chores, and then maybe he’d hit New Wall later on and see if there was any fun to have. The shady collection of alleyways and dead-ends was where the old Wall Market crowd set up shop and was a decent night on the tiles, provided you weren’t too picky about sticky floors and didn’t make eye contact with the wrong people.

Most of the time, Reno _was_ the wrong people.

When he was younger, he might’ve tried to pick up a date there too, but he’d grown out of strip-joints and cheeky back-room blowjobs. Besides, he didn’t think the company's medical insurance would pay out if he caught anything. It would make for one hell of a disciplinary, though. He could already picture Tseng’s face.

There was no milk. _Shit._ He remembered now; he meant to go to the grocery store on his way home. When he opened the cupboard, there was no bread either. In fact, his entire kitchen was pretty bare. If he actually spent any time there, he’d probably stock up, but thanks to the demands of the job and his single status, it wasn’t worth keeping supplies in. He’d rather drop in at Rude’s place and eat _his_ food than waste his own money on groceries he’d only end up throwing away. Rude cooked double portions especially. It was a win-win situation.

For now, he needed to go to the store. _Great._ The weather forecast for today was pretty shit, and Elena spent the entire day yesterday moaning about it. They predicted Edge’s first heavy snowfall in however many years, and there were end-of-the-world style bulletins on the network warning the city’s residents to stay home.

He was sure they were overreacting. Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.

When he opened the blinds at the balcony window, it was.

It took a hot minute for his screaming eyeballs to adjust to the brightness outside. When they did, they revealed a thick white blanket that rendered the street invisible. The only nod to the road still being there was a lone set of tyre tracks in the snow, grey slush already freezing in their wake. His heart sank. Suddenly, his afternoon wake-up made a lot more sense. The world was eerily silent. Despite his restless nature, his dead-to-humanity ass hadn’t stood a chance.

It felt a lot colder now he was staring out of the window at the snow.

One too-hot shower later, he dressed, forgoing the suit he’d worn all week in favour of ripped jeans and a plain white tee. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be warm enough, even with the leather biker he pulled his arms through. His well-worn boots had a decent tread on them at least, although they weren’t exactly designed for polar exploration. Zipping his jacket up as high as it would go, he headed outside.

It was fucking freezing.

Snow crunched underfoot, and he hunkered down into his jacket, trying to block the icy air from getting under his collar. A scarf would be pretty fucking useful right about now. Hands jammed in his pockets, he trudged down the street, watching his breath forming hazy clouds in the air in front of him.

Stupid fucking weather.

When he got to the store, it was a lot busier than usual. There was no bread, and when he squeezed through the hoards of dawdling shoppers, he found there was no milk either. He couldn’t bring himself to be pissed off about it; he probably wouldn't have finished them, anyway. In the spirit of not starving to death, he picked up a ham and cheese sandwich, deciding a takeaway for dinner was more appealing than spending more time in the store. In the spirit of it being his day off, he also grabbed a four-pack of beer.

When he got to the till the cashier didn’t spare him a smile. She packed his shopping in thorny silence, thrusting his change into his hand with an insolent smirk.

Once, he’d have taught the bitch a lesson, but he wasn’t the bastard he used to be. The world changed, and he’d changed with it. If they couldn’t see that, fuck ‘em. He wasn’t proud of the things he’d done, but he wasn’t about to lose any sleep over people not liking him. He was a Turk, for fuck’s sake. 

If he was honest, he was losing enough sleep already. The nightmares were a steady companion, so he drank a little too much to drown them. It wasn’t a great coping mechanism, but he didn’t know any other. Tseng suggested therapy once, and Reno quickly shot him down. He was an open book on first glance, but under the sardonic grin and insubordinate attitude, there was a whole heap of trauma he was only just keeping the lid screwed down on. He excelled in only letting people see what he wanted them to. 

Throwing a sarcastic _‘have a nice day’_ at the cashier, he headed out of the store.

Standing in the car-park was a trio he recognised. The boy was staring worriedly into the over-flowing bag of groceries in his arms, whilst the little girl cried, bundled up in a pink coat and mittens, her scarf trailing on the wet ground.

Tifa Lockhart in the wild. It piqued his interest enough for him to head over, even though kids weren’t exactly his forte.

“Need a hand?” he asked when he was within earshot.

She whipped around, almost dropping the two bags of shopping and the crate of liquor she had balanced in her arms. She’d bundled up too, her athletic frame lost beneath a puffy black coat and red bobble-hat, the ends of her long hair fluttering in the chilly breeze. She looked flustered as she peered at him over the top of her shopping. The cold gave her a pink nose and cheeks, and she’d look pretty adorable if it wasn’t for the suspicious frown on her face.

“No, thank you,” she replied. 

“You sure? Because it looks like you do.” 

The little girl—her name was Marlene, he was sure of it—was still bawling her eyes out, and it didn’t take a genius to work out why. The frozen snow was slippery, and the knees of her woollen tights were soaking wet. 

“Well, I don’t,” Tifa insisted. “So you can carry on.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged, his own half-empty bag hanging easily in his hand. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

He’d barely made it three paces when she called out to him, resignation clear in her tone. “The car won’t start. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“That’s a shame.”

“And my usual store shut because of the weather, so I had to come here.” The words tumbled out, and he could hear how annoyed she was. “I know we never got snow in Midgar, but does life really have to grind to a halt just because of the weather?”

“Looks like it.”

Seventh Heaven was over the other side of Edge. Tifa had a long walk home ahead of her, and neither of the kids looked excited by the prospect. Reno could probably chance a look at the car, but his fingers were already numb, and he was only half-certain he knew what to look out for. Rude was the mechanic, not him. His skills were more attuned to the interrogation game, and he was fairly sure that was absolutely zero help to him in this situation.

“You called a mechanic yet?” he asked.

“No.”

He sighed, reaching for his PHS. “Here. Allow me.”

“No,” she said hurriedly. The flush in her cheeks looked less frostbitten now, and more embarrassed. “Barret’s visiting tomorrow. He’ll come and look at it.”

“Yeah? And what’re you gonna do today?”

“I can’t afford a mechanic,” she hissed. “The heating at the bar packed up and I need to keep the kids warm. We’ll walk home.”

“Right…”

Her eyes were defiant. So, she’d spent a chunk of Gil on repairing her heating. Was he supposed to feel guilty? Life in Edge was tough for many people, but he got the feeling it had left her with a whole heap of short straws in her hands. He felt a little sorry for her, which was the inspiration for his next trick.

Reno dropped to his haunches in front of Marlene, icy air creeping down the back of his jeans. “Hey, kid? Stop crying.”

She watched him warily, her bottom lip still quivering. He had little experience in this department, but he’d dealt with Elena’s tantrums before. Surely, this couldn’t be any different. All he needed to do was find a distraction.

“I need you to carry this, okay?” He held out his paper bag, his voice serious. “And it’s real important, so don’t drop it.”

Despite her tears, he had her interest. “What is it?”

Tifa watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. If looks could kill, he’d be in a body-bag right now.

“Uncle Reno’s beer.” He straightened up, knees protesting. “Alright Lockhart, hand ‘em over.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she protested.

“I want to.” He was pretty surprised to find he meant it. “Come on. How else are you gonna get home?”

She hesitated a moment longer. He didn’t blame her. If he was Tifa, he wouldn’t want his help either. The cold weather appeared to be the deciding factor, practicality triumphing over her moral compass. She gave him the bags, keeping hold of the crate of bottles.

He turned to the boy. He was struggling under the weight of the bulky bag he held and regarding Reno with a look of absolute distrust. His expression looked so much like Tifa’s, Reno laughed.

“Give it here,” he said, balancing the bags on his hip so he could hold out his hand.

“I can carry it,” said the kid.

When she spoke again, her voice was a lot softer. “It’s okay, Denzel. Give him the bag.”

Denzel handed it over, but Reno could tell he didn’t want to. “I want to help.”

“Fine.” Reno re-jigged the bags, holding out one that felt lighter and a lot less bulky. “Knock yourself out.”

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little relieved. The shopping bags were fucking heavy. How she thought she was going to walk home with the three of them plus the bottles was beyond him. The woman needed to learn how to ask for some goddamn help.

“Okay…” he surveyed the situation. Marlene was clutching his pathetic lunch like it was about to explode, but at least she wasn’t whining anymore. “Off we go.”

They walked in silence for a while. The kids trudged on ahead, and the only sound besides the snow crunching underfoot was the bottles clinking and the paper bags rustling in his hands. Reno didn’t like awkward silences, so before the lack of conversation became too weird, he tried to shoe-horn in some small-talk.

“Fuck me, Lockhart. What’ve you got in here?”

“Groceries. Would you mind not swearing in front of the kids?”

“Oh, shi—right,” he corrected himself. “Sorry.”

More silence. He tried again.

“You inviting the whole of Edge for dinner?”

“It’s for the bar. My supplier’s stuck outside of Junon.”

“Don’t you think the weather’s gonna keep people away?”

She sighed. “I hope not. I need the money.”

“Right…”

She looked at him, her frown growing more confused. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Eh… figure I owe you one.” He tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. This whole situation had him on uneven footing, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he was trying to help her. “I’m not working today. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” she replied quietly.

Those four words tugged on his heartstrings a little. Maybe that was why.

“There’s nobody that could’ve helped you out?” he asked.

“No.”

The bluntness of her answer told him it probably wasn’t a good idea to pry. Silence resumed again, a little more awkward than before.

Reno had a type. Elena liked to joke that it hinged on finding a willing partner with a pulse, but there was something about a woman that could hand his ass to him on a plate that got his blood pumping. It was a touch masochistic, but he’d happily help Tifa work out her frustrations if she wanted him to. Rude had a crush on her once, back in the day. Something about that maternal nature of hers had gotten him all tied up, and Reno could see why.

Not that there was any point fantasising about fucking her. There was more chance of Rufus sprouting wings and flying away.

Building any kind of relationship outside of the Turks was tricky, anyway. Non-disclosure agreements made it difficult to open up, and years of fucked up scheduling had left him with terrible habits. His free time was too sporadic to form any kind of meaningful connection. Tifa was probably the only woman outside of Elena that he saw regularly, and Elena was so far off his radar she was a dot on the horizon. She was the little sister he never knew he needed, and besides, he was ninety-nine percent certain she was knocking boots with Tseng.

He was happy for them. Tseng was far less cranky now he was getting laid, and that did all three of them a favour. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked eventually, barrelling through the silence.

Tifa stared at him, eyebrows raised.

“Do you mind having us in the bar?”

She didn’t reply for a moment, but he saw something uncertain flit across her expression. He’d wondered about it a few times, when they’d strolled through her door and taken their usual table in the corner.

“Not as much as I thought I would,” she replied, after mulling it over. “You’re not what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know…” She shrugged, the bottles rattling in her arms. “Anyway, I can’t exactly afford to turn away customers right now.”

“Right…” That was less encouraging, but he threw his cards on the table, anyway. “Next time we’re in, join us.”

“I’ll already be there. It’s my bar.”

He suspected she was being awkward on purpose. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Next time we’re drinking, sit down and have a drink with us.”

“We’re not exactly friends, Reno.”

“We’re not exactly enemies, either,” he pressed. “You just… Fuck, I don’t know… Look, just forget I said anything.”

She almost smiled. He caught the quirk at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

He huffed. “Maybe I’ve already changed my mind.”

She laughed at that, and the air between them felt a little less icy. There was nothing in the rule-book that said he could be friends with an ex-ecoterrorist. The offer was entirely innocent on paper.

He’d torch that paper if he wasn’t careful.

They were getting close to the bar now. Reno’s feet were cold, his toes damp where the snow leaked through his boots. This good deed left him a long way from home, and the thought of traipsing all the way back to his apartment didn’t feel that appealing.

He wanted to ask her where her friends were. Cloud Strife had been missing in action for a while now, and the others seemed to drop in and out when the mood took them. He knew this because they’d all got a file, each of the manilla folders a good half-inch thick. He doubted there was any malice in them leaving her alone. Their lives had just taken them in different directions.

She needed help though, anybody could see that. She was struggling to balance all the plates she was trying to spin.

Finally, they turned onto the all-too-familiar street. Reno was glad. His arms ached and he couldn’t wait to offload the bags. Figuring he may as well see this chivalrous crap through to the bitter end, he ignored her attempts to relieve him of the shopping and offered to bring it inside. She didn’t argue, just unlocked the door and let him follow her through it.

The familiar scents of stale tobacco and old beer hit him almost as soon as he crossed the threshold. The Turks struck gold when they started drinking at Seventh Heaven. Unlike the other bars in Edge, Tifa didn’t swindle them with watered-down liquor, and the place was pleasantly clean. It was rare to find an establishment that suited all four of them, but even Tseng didn’t turn his sophisticated nose up at the collection of bottles on her top-shelf.

The kitchen was unfamiliar territory. It was small and neat; the surfaces gleamed. A vase of yellow lilies on the wooden table offset the drab decor, and there were childish drawings pinned with magnets to the fridge, and pots and pans hanging on the walls.

“You can leave them on the table,” she said, depositing the crate on the well-scrubbed wooden surface.

He did as he was told. “Well, there’s my good deed for the month.”

She tugged her hat off, her dark hair dishevelled, wispy strands stuck to her flushed skin. “You really saved me.”

“Makes up for all the times I tried to kill you,” he quipped.

She took it as the joke he intended it to be, smiling shyly. “Yeah, maybe.”

He figured he’d probably outstayed his welcome. He rubbed his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Well… I guess I’ll head off.”

“Thanks, again. Really...”

“Tifa!” Marlene opened the back door. Bright, white light spilt through the crack, bringing with it a gust of icy air that made Reno shiver. “Come on! You said we could make a snowman!”

When Reno glanced out the window, he saw a square of perfect, untouched snow. The urge to run straight through it surprised him, considering he hated the fucking stuff. Denzel was watching her now too, hope radiating from his expression. Neither of the kids had shucked their winter clothes, and Reno got the feeling they’d been waiting for this moment all morning.

He realised that Tifa didn’t look anywhere near as excited as they did. In fact, she looked downright heartbroken.

“We have to open the bar soon,” she said. “But we’ll make one tomorrow. Daddy can help.”

“But you promised!” said Marlene, her expression crestfallen, her mitten-covered hand still holding on to the door handle.

“I know,” Tifa replied. “But the store took longer than I thought it would. There’s not enough time to do it today.”

“We can build it by ourselves,” said Denzel. “Please?”

Reno didn’t think the kid meant his words to upset her, but he could see it in her face. She was torn. Duty called, and she didn’t want to listen. All she wanted to do was go out into her tiny garden and make a snowman with her kids.

It wasn’t like Edge got snow every Winter. This was the first time Reno had seen the white stuff outside of the Icicle Area for years. It was an opportunity she shouldn’t really miss.

It was official; he was going soft in his old age. “Say… I reckon four people could knock up a snowman pretty quickly.”

Tifa stared at him. Her eyes widened as she processed what he was suggesting. “Oh… you don’t have to-”

He cut her off. “How hard can it be?”

The kids were both watching her now, barely daring to breathe.

“I open at four-thirty and there’s still so much to do,” Tifa protested. “And it’s your day off.”

“Half an hour. Forty minutes, tops,” he insisted.

She was wavering. He could see it in her face. She really wanted to build that goddamn snowman.

“Please?” Marlene already had one foot out the door, all trace of her prior waterworks now completely gone.

Tifa crumbled. “Okay, fine. Half an hour.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Right guys, we’re on the clock. You heard the pretty lady. Grab a snowball and start rolling.”

They ran out of the door, laughing and shouting. Tifa was watching him with an odd expression, her eyes soft, the ghost of a smile on her mouth. Feeling uncomfortable, he stared at the jumbled footsteps in the snow, trying to work out when exactly he’d turned into such a fucking drip.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said.

He shrugged, finally meeting her eye. “It’s half an hour of my life. Where’s the harm?”

“I know but-”

“I swear, it’s fine. Some things are more important than working yourself to death, you know?”

She nodded then, the smile slowly blossoming across her face. And she really was stunning, her eyes sparkling under the warm lights, the tip of her nose still pink.

“Come on then,” he said before he could put his foot in it. It was the weather, he reasoned. It was making him crazy. “Let’s get this over with.”

She followed him to the door. Reno ducked his neck into his collar again, wondering if he’d ever feel warm again.

“Oh! Wait there…” She headed for a door across the kitchen. It was a closet, he realised, spying coats hanging inside. When she turned, there was a red and white scarf in her hands. “Here. Wear this.”

He didn’t get the chance to protest. She marched straight up to him, balancing on her tip-toes to wrap the chunky garment around his neck. It matched her hat, and he caught the scent of her then, bright and warm and sweet. Whether it was the scarf or her proximity, he couldn’t be certain. All he knew was that rational thought had taken a back-seat, the sudden desire to kiss her taking over.

He didn’t. He wasn’t stupid. He wanted to, though.

She froze, her hands hovering at his neck, and he wondered if the notion crossed her mind too. He swore he saw her eyes flicker to his mouth before they caught his. Slowly, she shifted her weight, dropping back onto her heels and putting valuable space between them.

Oh, _fuck._

The moment passed. She backed away, her cheeks practically glowing now. Deciding not to confront whatever the fuck was going on, he turned his attention to the scarf, studying the pattern. It had chocobos on it. If Rude or Elena ever got wind of this, he was a dead man.

The kids were still laughing outside. He gestured at the door, mouth a little too dry to form the words. 

“Come on,” he said. “Snowman ain’t gonna build itself.”

This felt like a turning point, although he wasn’t certain he liked the direction. Tifa was smiling, listening to the kids play, and it lit up her face. It lit up something else too, something that stirred uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He’d brought that smile to her face.

He felt more confused than he had for a long time. Now probably wasn’t the time to dwell on it, though. Wrapping the scarf a little tighter around his neck, he headed out into the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Rei](https://twitter.com/Ash_Bandipoot/status/1344661454029520898), who can be found [here](https://twitter.com/rei_reikarameru), [Toherrys](https://twitter.com/toherrys/status/1339716831951646721) and [Kamalia](https://twitter.com/MariKamalia/status/1339306571566813184) for some super-sweet fanart. Reno in a scarf is bae <3


End file.
